What The Poison Gave Me
by RealmOfPossibility
Summary: Continuation of With You Beside Me. Emma Swan is about to face one of the longest nights of her life...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I know fanfiction is just escapism and not like curing cancer or anything, but I hated throwing in the towel with my last effort. So, to redeem myself, I started thinking and ended up writing a little something to resolve some things from With You Beside Me. Think of it as either a really long epilogue or a short sequel-up to you. Probably 4 or 5 chapters (though I said that about WYBM and it turned into double). I am basically turning the tables of WYBM to shake Emma up and break down those walls for good.**

**A/N 2 And for anyone who started reading my recently aborted effort (The Road We Travel), I faithfully promise not to stop this new offering. And I didn't kill Emma in WYBM, so you know I keep my word ;)**

**What The Poison Gave Me - Prologue**

_A bowl of potato chips lay half-eaten on the blue and white bedspread. The two fourteen-year-olds lay across the bed, occasionally reaching out lazy arms to fish for more chips. Music blasted angrily from a pair of speakers in each corner of the room._

_One of the girls stretched out her arm and pressed the pause button on the CD player._

"_Emma?"_

_The blonde girl grunted, eyes closed, leg still tapping to the beat of a song no longer playing._

"_What would you do? You know, if you met your real parents?"_

_The leg stilled._

"_Why the hell are you asking me that?" Emma asked, her face creased in irritation._

"_I was reading this article, the other day, about this teenage guy who was given up at birth. And, like, years later, his parents came looking for him and they had this big reunion and now his life is totally amazing."_

"_So?" Emma said in a bored voice._

_The girl sat up and looked over at her friend._

"_So, did you ever think of, you know, looking for them? Finding out why they gave you up. Maybe they're looking for you and you don't even know it!"_

"_My parents left me by the side of the road, Adele," Emma retorted. "That doesn't fill me with the hope of a thousand wishes. Trust me, they're not looking."_

"_But, what if they were?" Adele pressed. "What if they showed up at your door tomorrow? What would you say to them?"_

_Emma opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment._

"_I'd tell them to go to hell."_

* * *

Emma Swan sat in silence, staring at the stars high above her. She listened, conditioning her ears with every passing moment to recognise the sounds of the forest.

The crickets chirping.

The gentle rustle of the trees.

Howls and grunts of animals she didn't really care to identify, so long as they stayed at a safe distance.

Emma stared and she listened and she thought.

She thought about how she was a fool.

She was one of those people one would shake their heads sympathetically over, yet at the same time, raise their eyes to the heavens at her actions. They would tell her words that, deep down, she had recited to herself many times over. But, when it came to living those words, she just couldn't. She couldn't.

_Seize the day._

_You don't know what you've got til it's gone._

_Live for today, for tomorrow never comes._

The words they might say were quickly becoming her nightmare. Especially sitting here in the forest, alone, while the rest of the world was asleep.

She glanced over at Mulan and Aurora, who were both sleeping peacefully on the other side of the fire. She didn't quite know what she would be doing if not for them. Floundering, most likely. It reminded her of just how much she didn't know about the enchanted forest. Of how grateful she was for chimera and fire-making and tracking, skills in which she was sadly deficient. Of how utterly alone she would be.

At that thought, Emma's eyes slid to _that_ spot.

The spot where Snow would be lying. The spot her mother chose to sleep every night. Beside her. For it was an unwritten agreement between the group. Mulan and Aurora slept on one side and Snow and Emma slept on the other.

Except now.

Now, the spot was empty and the whereabouts of its inhabitant unknown.

Emma rubbed her shoulder, frowning at the dull ache deep inside it. Though, she figured that was better than the sharp, searing pain of a brand new injury. She supposed it would take a long time to fully heal, despite her limited knowledge of arrow wounds. It had barely been a week since she had been dying in her mother's arms, hardly able to tell where she was or what she was doing. Or saying for that matter. A week of taking one step forward and then two steps back. Blurting out something of her feelings, followed by hours of withdrawal.

And now she was a fool in the worst possible way.

She was a fool because she had thrown a perfectly good gift away.

The poison.

She had never had such a perfect chance. The chance to explain. To tell. To reveal. The poison had provided her with that one moment, that one situation when she could have laid it all out. Thrown caution to the wind and opened herself completely. To have been the daughter she could have been if not for the curse. If not for her own stupidity. Her cowardice.

For her courage had failed at those critical moments. When she had stayed silent, unable to answer a gentle question from a mother who only sought to know her better. When she had had the opportunity to share her deepest feelings and hopes and fears with the one person in all the world who would listen and love her just the same. But, she never opened her mouth to do it.

And now?

Now it might be all too late.

For Snow was gone. Somewhere. Nowhere. Vanished into the mist.

And the empty spot beside Emma was all that remained. That, and a tattered, blood-stained piece of her pink cardigan. Leaving Emma with the crushing weight of regret. And all the unsaid words she wanted to give her mother. And the desperate feeling inside of needing Snow to be right there.

Which might possibly be the most terrible thing of all.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N You're all awesome people, encouraging me with your following and your favouriting and your reviews and even if you're 'just' reading :) I don't anticipate this story being quite as soul crushing as the original, but you never know. I kind of liked having all of you on the edge of your seats last time ;) The plan I had has already taken a new direction. My aim, though, is more to torture Emma, not the readers!**

**Chapter 1**

**Two days earlier...**

Emma opened her eyes and stared straight up at the leafy canopy of the forest. The light was dim and grey, signalling that dawn was about to come creeping through to usher in another day. She didn't move for a moment, wondering in the silence what had woken her up. Shifting slightly, she winced and immediately had her answer.

Her arm. The arrow wound. The last vestiges of a poison which had almost killed her. It had dulled to a throbbing ache now, just enough to wake her up from time to time. The fevers and hallucinations were gone, as was the dizziness and that feeling of not being quite _there_. The silver was receding too. At the worst moments, it had crept up her neck and across her chest, but now it was just a gentle, occasional shimmer on her arm and around the wound. Yet, every day, when she went to the river to wash, she waited for the ripples of the water to still, before checking her eyes. The silver still lurked there, glinting, swirling across her pupils now and then, making her look like some strange, mystical being from another world. Which, she supposed, she was. Mulan had said it might take some time to disappear entirely.

That it might take time was something that could be said for a lot of things about Emma these days.

The dissipation of the silver in her eyes.

The fading of the pain in her body.

The chiselling down of her carefully guarded walls.

Emma turned her head to watch Snow sleeping beside her, with her back toward her. It wasn't lost on Emma that her mother had forced a change in some areas of their relationship. But, it didn't feel overwhelming. At least, not yet. She kept a frequent and sharp eye on Emma, though Emma knew she was just checking she didn't relapse from the poison. Snow also made it known that she had endless stores of patience and a complete lack of judgment of whatever Emma decided to tell her. Or not tell her. That had been demonstrated yesterday, when Snow had asked a question completely from left field.

_"Emma, who's Neil?" _

She'd almost tripped and fallen on her face again at that. Apparently, she'd had quite the big mouth while in her delirium. She wasn't ready to tell Snow about that whole fiasco. There were a lot of fiascos she didn't want to tell Snow about. She'd mumbled something about him being an ex-boyfriend and left it at that. And Snow had let her drop it, seeming to sense it was a sensitive topic. Secretly, Emma wondered if she'd ever be ready to talk about herself. The parts that existed down deep in places only she knew. She wondered what it would be like to look Snow in the eye, pour out how miserable she'd been for twenty-eight years and let the emotions just fall where they may.

The moment she thought of that, of course, her insides started clenching.

How did people do it?

Were there actually words for that kind of thing?

She was doing all the right things physically. She smiled more, not a lot, but she was sure it was more than she ever had. And whenever Snow smiled back, she could feel her own become something more natural, less rehearsed. She made sure she walked beside her mother for a good portion of the day. It wasn't that hard really and after everything she had put Snow through, it seemed like such a simple way to make her happy. And maybe herself too. She let Snow check her wound carefully every day and even answered honestly when asked if it hurt. And in her head, she tried to stop calling her Mary Margaret, tried referring to her as Snow, though she couldn't yet verbalise it. That was taking some getting used to.

It was progress.

But, the other stuff...

Well, the other stuff, the painful, emotional baggage she'd always carried around with her, was still too private. As were the somewhat hazy memories of things she'd done while injured. Stroking her mother's face. Crying for her. Holding her hand. Saying I love you. Calling her...

She didn't know how to stop feeling weird about it. She wanted to, in fact, it was driving her crazy, but she just couldn't seem to break the habits of twenty-eight years of hiding herself.

Emma wondered if there would be a precise moment. Like a light switch being flipped or a tap being turned on. Maybe she'd wake up one morning and all her insecurities would have magically disappeared.

Perhaps the right moment would come when she wasn't even looking.

And would smack her in the face when she wasn't expecting it.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Emma, Snow's eyes were wide open and she was staring at the embers of their dying fire.

_I should probably get that going again_, she thought and slowly, quietly got up and moved to their small, temporary woodpile of dried branches and other kindling. She picked up a few thick sticks and squatted next to the fire, edging the wood in and holding it until it caught fire. It crackled and snapped and she edged back slightly to avoid the sparks.

It was moments like this, in the crisp, early morning air, that took her back. To that time in her life , about a million years ago, when she was a fugitive from Regina's rampaging temper. When she was wanted, dead or alive. Dead being the Queen's preference. To moments like when the Huntsman had caught her to cut out her heart and had let her go instead. Or when she had gone on the run with Red. Or when she had first met-and stolen from-Charming.

How strange that things then seemed so much simpler than they did now. Then again, now she had the memories and feelings of two distinct people. She could feel herself as Snow, yet Mary Margaret's identity was somehow fused into her as well. And now, she wasn't just an expectant mother.

She _was_ a mother. To a person who, outwardly, looked exactly the same age, but whom Snow felt years older than. To a person who was so emotionally stunted by the choice she and Charming had made that the only way she could properly communicate was by lying half-dead with an arrow stuck through her shoulder. Yet, that was so Emma, waiting until the truth was staring her right in the face , when the truth was the only thing left to trust, jolting her into action at the last possible moment. Just as it had in the nursery.

Snow wondered when the next jolt would come. The jolt which would finally bring Emma to her for good.

* * *

The foursome left early, intent on their continued quest to discover Cora and her plan. As usual, Mulan led the way as both scout and guide. She walked single-mindedly, determinedly, not wanting to waste any more precious time. Every wasted minute took them one step further away from restoring the kingdom and returning Snow and Emma to their land. Aurora followed, leading the horse and their supplies. Anyone who had known her before would have remarked on the confident walk she seemed to have acquired and how she no longer held back from discussions that were held, plans decided on. She even made suggestions, sensible and considerable. Of course, such things had always been there, they had just been...hidden away. Even from herself. And she'd also learned that Emma's jacket was far warmer than her shawl, despite the hole in the shoulder.

Snow and Emma brought up the rear, mostly because Emma still tired easily and needed to go a little slower. She refused to complain. She knew what was at stake. Snow was vigilant, but waited until she was sure Emma could go no further. She knew how much her daughter would hate being treated any different than the others.

There wasn't a lot of talk. Events of the past week had subdued everyone and placed even more urgency on finding Cora and getting home. In fact, no one really said anything until an hour later. Mulan had been more attentive to their surroundings for quite some time, her head turning continuously, as if looking for something. She finally stopped and held her hand up.

"Wait," she said quietly.

Emma felt deja vu crawling across her skin like pins and needles.

They waited.

"Do you hear that?" Aurora asked, cocking her head to the side and frowning. Everyone stood still, silent in the morning light.

Snow squinted in concentration. She didn't need to wait long. A whimpering sound could be heard somewhere close by. She felt Emma come up beside her and put her hand out to stop her from walking any further. She could feel Emma's eyes on her, but she didn't respond to what she was sure would be a questioning frown of annoyance. She didn't want what happened the last time they had been ambushed to happen again.

The birds seemed to have disappeared, as had almost all other sound. Snow looked over at Mulan, who raised her sword and pointed to her left. Then, she pointed at Snow and, finally, off to her right. Snow, understanding immediately, nodded and stepped quietly around Emma and in the direction Mulan had indicated. She gently eased her way off the path and amongst the low-lying shrubs lining the trail they had been walking along. She lifted her feet at every obstacle, making very little sound amidst the shrubbery as she placed her feet carefully. The whimpering seemed to have died down, but she kept going. Looking up, she saw Mulan walking at a right angle toward her. They would meet in a matter of metres...

A sharp high-pitched roar came from a tree to Snow's right and she instinctively whipped an arrow from her quiver and strung it into her bow. She whirled around to meet her attacker...

"Stop! Wait!" a voice wailed, as Snow pulled the arrow back, ready to release it...

At a boy, no more than thirteen years old. His eyes widened and he froze mid-step. A woman barrelled from the bushes near Mulan, her hands raised in surrender.

"Please!" she begged. "Don't hurt him. He's my son. Thomas, come here!"

The boy, holding an old, rusty knife quickly joined his mother, giving Snow a wide berth.

Snow, eyebrows raised, looked quizzically at Mulan, who shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," the woman cried. "We didn't know who was there. We thought it might have been those men..."

Mulan frowned.

"What men?"

"They came while we were asleep," the woman replied, wiping her eyes. "They had swords and knives and they took everything. They laughed at us, telling us there was a camp for people like us not far from here and that we should be careful where we walked."

"Bandits!" Mulan said in disgust, glaring around at the surrounding trees as if they might still be lurking there.

"At least it wasn't Cora," Emma murmured to Snow. "Are you alone?" she said, louder, speaking directly to the woman.

At the question, a low rustling could be heard further behind the woman and two more women and a young girl stepped out from behind trees and moved to stand with their companion and her son.

"This is my sister and our cousin and her daughter," the woman introduced. There were nods, but no smiles.

A fire was quickly made and hot drinks shared among the expanded group. The women and children were clearly at their limit, both physically and emotionally. They spoke little, but to tell their tale in halting, hushed sentences.

"You said there was a camp nearby," Mulan said. She turned to Snow. "I have heard of several groups of bandits who steal from their victims and then point them to the nearest camp of survivors. I heard even one group escorted them almost to a camp itself."

"Perhaps there is something decent left in them," Aurora suggested. Mulan pursed her lips at that, unconvinced.

"How far did they say it was?" Snow asked, giving the woman a gentle smile.

"They said it would be a good two or three hour walk," the woman replied. "In that direction." She pointed away from where Snow and the others had been heading.

"Yeah, if the next group of bandits doesn't get them first," Emma muttered. Snow shot her a warning glance.

Mulan stood moved closer to the woman, who suddenly looked terrified. The women beside her shifted uncomfortably and the child hid behind her mother. Truly the warrior looked fearsome with her glinting armour, enormous sword and stern expression. The boy, Thomas, looked as if he wanted to run up the nearest tree. Mulan cast a glance over at Snow and tilted her head slightly in the other direction, indicating an impromptu meeting was in order.

"What do you think?" Snow said as the four women stood together in a circle.

"Clearly, they're terrified," Aurora said. "Of you it would seem," she said to Mulan. "The armour is a little intimidating."

Snow lifted her hands.

"We can't let them go alone. Remember the camp where we first encountered Cora? They were desperate people. These women and their children are no different."

Mulan frowned.

"Well, what do you suggest? We can't take them with us. And going five or six hours out of our way just to be back here? That's the better part of a day's journey. We can't afford to lose that, especially after what's happened."

Snow nodded.

"You're right. But, these are exactly the kind of people we want to restore everything for. So they can get back to their normal lives." She straightened up. "Which is why I'll take them myself."

Emma, who had been quietly listening to the exchange, started.

"Wait. What?"

Snow pointed to their belongings.

"You continue on. I'll take the horse and some food, escort them to the camp and then ride back to meet you. We won't lose much time and they'll be safe."

Mulan considered the plan for a long moment, looking toward the small group of women and children. She knew it was the right thing to do and finally nodded.

"Very well."

Emma stared at her, aware that her mouth was open in disbelief. Surely they weren't splitting up...Surely Snow wasn't going off alone...

Mulan walked beyond the treeline a little further on, followed by the others. She gazed down into the valley at the surrounding landscape, considering. They waited. Finally, she gave a firm nod and pointed into the distance, a little to her left.

"There," she said to Snow. "See that hillside? It has a clump of trees resembling a face with a rather prominent nose."

Snow squinted into the far distance and located the hill Mulan had idenitified. She spotted the shape described and nodded.

"We'll camp there tonight," Mulan explained. "Meet us there when you can."

Emma finally found her voice.

"Are you sure we should be splitting up?" she questioned. A nervous fluttering began in her stomach. "Considering what happened last week? Considering Cora?"

Snow smiled gently.

"I'll be barely a few hours," she replied. "I'll have the horse so you'll probably here me coming from quite a distance." She reached forward and tugged on the bottom of Emma's jacket, as if to reassure her. "Besides, it'll be quicker if I take them myself. You're still not able to do a full days' walk and it's unnecessary for everyone to come. And Mulan's right, we do need to keep moving." Now that she knew Emma better, she could see something almost, but not quite, hidden in her eyes. Panic? Fear? Unease? She turned and stood so that she was face to face with Emma.

"Dinner," she said firmly. "Tonight we'll be eating dinner together." She reached forward and put her arms around Emma, feeling relieved at how automatically Emma returned the embrace. She pulled back and smiled confidently, squeezing her shoulders, before letting go and picking up her bow. Despite the fact that she wasn't worried about her task, it seemed harder this time to do the right thing than the selfish thing. The right thing was to escort these traumatised people to safety. The selfish thing...to stick close to her daughter. Snow told herself that, despite recent events, they couldn't make every decision based on fear and selfishness. Perhaps some distance for a few hours could even help. She'd tried the 'don't leave Emma's side' strategy. Maybe it was time to try the 'let Emma think about it' plan.

Emma wanted to speak. It was so strange. It was just a few hours. What could she say though? Tell Snow not to go? She couldn't. Ask her to stay? She wouldn't. It didn't feel right, though. It didn't feel right at all.

Emma stared at Snow as she walked toward the group of people waiting for her to guide them. Stared as she spoke quietly to them, outlining their path. Could practically feel their relief and gratitude that someone would help them. Which made her feel guilty. Stared as Snow unburdened the horse of most of their supplies. Stared as she turned and lifted her hand in a farewell gesture. Stared as she started walking down the path.

Into the wilderness with a bunch of skittish, beaten-down refugees.

"Don't go," she whispered. Her stomach churned in fear. She couldn't explain it, but her instincts were screaming at her. And a single thought flew around and around in her mind.

_What if I never see her again?_

It was silly, really. Snow White could certainly handle herself. She had time and time again.

But...

The group disappeared around a bend, leaving the three alone.

She looked helplessly at Mulan and Aurora. The latter smiled and beckoned her.

"Come on. You know her well enough to know she'll be just fine."

"We have our own destination," Mulan added, gesturing in front of them.

Emma swallowed. No. That wasn't the problem. The problem was...

She was doing it without Emma. It would be the first time since they'd arrived in this land that Snow hadn't been right there. Emma couldn't really explain it. She had never been dependent on anyone before.

It was just no good.

Emma walked over to the supplies that had been left behind and picked up some bread and an apple.

"What are you doing?"Mulan asked suspiciously.

Emma tried to be casual. She really did. But her small, shaky voice fooled noone.

"I'm going with her," she said, turned and jogged down the path to join her mother.

To lead those poor wretches through the wild.

**A/N I think you all know what's coming. As Henry said in 1x22: "something bad." :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Let's crank it up a notch, shall we? ;)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter 2**

"Snow!"

There were two distinct feelings involved on hearing Emma's voice calling her name.

Stunned.

Delighted.

She turned quickly, her brow furrowing as if she were imagining the voice, to see Emma running down the path. Her daughter slowed, weaving between Snow's five companions, smiling awkwardly, yet apologetically, at their startled faces. Finally, she came to a stop on the other side of the horse, opening a saddlebag to shove in the food she'd been carrying.

"What are you doing?" Snow asked curiously, although it was fairly evident already. Emma was yet to meet her gaze, but was still smiling. Snow held onto the horse's reins a little tighter than usual.

Emma walked around until she was standing in front of her mother. The smile was strange to Snow. Emma, when she was uncomfortable, did solemn, sombre, even snarky. But smiley?

"Hi." It was an attempt to seem even. Nonchalant.

Snow smiled back, amused and still curious.

"Hi," she replied, slowly, with a questioning rise at the end. "Are you joining us?"

Emma's smile became sheepish. She hadn't really thought of the explanation she would offer when the inevitable question came up.

_I just wanted to be with you. _

_Too needy._

_I didn't want you to leave me._

_Too clingy._

"I...uh...I had a choice," she offered, raising her hands and letting them fall against her legs. "Stay with them or come with you. I chose you," she explained hastily, again attempting to sound casual. Somehow the words 'I chose you' sounded like something of magnitude.

"Ok then," Snow replied, nodding them forward and moving down the path, the horse walking behind them. She checked to make sure their companions had resumed the pace.

_Don't make a big deal,_ she instructed herself. _She's here and that's wonderful, but don't make it a big thing._

Still, that didn't stop her from being all cartwheels and backflips inside for the next ten minutes, the words 'I chose you' dancing through her mind.

* * *

An hour and a half later of constant walking and occasional chitchat, most of it with the boy, Thomas, Emma was almost regretting her choice. Her shoulder ached, her head ached and her body ached. Each time they passed a shady area full of soft, green grass, she found herself gazing at it longingly. Instead, she put one foot in front of the other and tried not to think about soft mattresses and fluffy pillows and how they would both cure the explosions currently happening behind her eyes. She only half listened as Snow talked quietly with the woman, Greta, who had asked for their help. The three other members of the family, Sarah, Katrina and little Colleen, did nothing but walk behind them, though never too far behind.

Of course, for Emma, the other exhausting thing was the avalanche of words she was trying to bite back every time she and her mother walked alone. She wanted to know things and the excuse of 'now was not the time' was wearing thin.

And it wasn't going to work for much longer.

Or any longer.

"Why didn't you want me to come?" Emma asked quietly.

Snow looked over at her in amazement. Surely she hadn't misread the situation so poorly. Emma sounded almost hurt...

"Is that what you think?" she asked.

Emma shrugged defensively.

"What was I supposed to think? You were all 'I'll take them myself' and then you were gone." She clicked her fingers for emphasis.

Snow stopped and let go of the horse's reins. She reached out and took hold of Emma's arm, forcing her to stop too. She looked over at the group behind them and then turned to Emma, taking hold of her other arm and turning herself and Emma for privacy.

So much for knowing what her daughter was thinking. Not the perfect mother yet. Not by a long way.

"Believe me," she said slowly, carefully, her eyes penetrating Emma's. "I wanted you with me. I want you with me all the time, my love." She saw Emma swallow at that. "But, you still get so tired from...what happened last week. You shouldn't really be here now. It's going to hurt tomorrow and I wanted to spare you that." She looked closer at the blood-shot eyes and sweaty brow. "It's hurting you now."

Emma stared at Snow's hands grasping her arms. It warmed her to hear such words. Just like last week...Memories of her mother's all-encompassing embrace flashed through her mind. How safe it was in there...

"But...you didn't even ask me..." Why did she suddenly sound like a petulant child? "I can walk. I'm not helpless."

Snow's face softened.

OK.

"Alright, what else?"

Emma nodded.

Snow squeezed her arm a little.

"I thought maybe a few hours of space might help. I make you uncomfortable with my...enthusiasm about being your mother. I talk a lot. And I fuss. And I ask you how you're feeling." She smiled in understanding. "I know you need time to get used to it. Though I haven't forgotten you don't mind the pet names." She said the last part teasingly, lightly. She knew how skittish Emma could be if things got too heavy.

Emma shook her head, feeling the familiar tightness in her chest at the intensity of emotions. She could feel the build up coming. It had happened every so often over the past week, beginning with her admission that words like 'my darling' and 'my love' would not be unwelcome. And it was coming again.

She was about to make a concession.

She was about to lose another brick from the wall.

"I...uh, would rather be with you. I mean...I don't want to be without you. Even when you...get enthusiastic." She cringed inwardly and thrust her hands into her pockets. Not exactly the eloquence she had been looking for. It was damn hard finding a balance of being no-nonsense while saying what she meant with_ feeling_.

Snow reached down and tugged a hand out of her pocket, squeezing it.

"That's exactly why I jumped into the portal after you," she replied. She gathered herself and went for broke. "I loved you too much to be without you. I'm sorry you thought I didn't want you to come. I was really trying to give you space _and_ stop you from needing all of tomorrow to recover."She raised her hands and pushed Emma's messy blonde hair back from her face.

Emma shook her head.

"Don't," she said.

Snow's face fell and she dropped her hands. Emma's expression softened quickly.

"No, not that! I mean...don't give me space. And I'm sorry for misunderstanding." She sighed. "Is it always going to be this hard?"

Snow smiled crookedly, reaching up to push Emma's long hair back over her shoulders, before cupping her face in her hands.

"For a while, maybe. But, not forever." She peered closely at Emma's face. "You look like you could do with a rest."

Emma shook her head.

"I can wait until we reach the camp," she replied.

And she quietly counted it a victory that she hadn't even backed away from her mother's loving hands.

* * *

She did make it to the camp. Barely.

It stood in a large open area, not unlike the one they had been taken to when they had first arrived in this land. There were about a hundred people, survivors, as Mulan would call them. Some had had time to pack supplies and a few personal possessions, some had clearly left everything behind. Yet, it was apparent that everyone was sharing what little they had. They were a wretched crowd, which made Snow's and Emma's hearts ache a little at the thought that Greta and her family saw this as an option of hope.

Options were obviously few.

After helping the family find a suitable space to set themselves up, Snow led Emma to a tree and made her sit down.

"Now, I know you enjoy rash decisions like not wanting me out of your sight," she chided gently. "But this time, please just rest." She gave her a mock stern look as she knelt beside her.

Emma nodded and smiled wearily.

"Promise," she murmured and closed her eyes. It was moments like this, when it was just the two of them together and Snow was looking at her like _that_, Emma felt almost peaceful. Calm. Like she could give up control and let someone else pull everything together. After twenty-eight years of doing it all herself, the change was...welcome. More than she'd thought.

She didn't hear Snow walk away. Simply let herself drift away...

Loud voices snapped her back quickly.

Emma opened her eyes and looked around, blinking. It was hard to tell how long she'd been asleep. She couldn't remember where the sun had been in the sky before. Angry, heated words drew her attention to a small gathering on the other side of the camp. She wondered what they were talking about. After watching the commotion for a minute, she couldn't sit still anymore. She stood and made her way over to the group. A few of the men were arguing heatedly and Snow was in the middle, trying patiently to hear them all out.

"We need to pack up and leave tonight," one of the men said vehemently. "And we need to do it together! There's safety in numbers."

"Leave tonight?" a second man called out. "And go _where_ exactly? I say we stay, take it in turns to watch tonight and move out at first light. We light pyres around the camp. That should deter them."

"And what if they find us?" the first man countered.

Emma frowned. Them? They? What was going on?

Snow saw her just then and excused herself, walking over and taking her arm. They walked a few metres from the group, who continued arguing.

"What's happening?" Emma asked.

Snow looked worried.

"There have been reports of ogres in the area. Everyone has an opinion on what to do, but no one can agree, which is the one thing they _must_ do."

Emma paled.

"Ogres?" It wasn't hard to remember the last time she had seen one of _those_. Flat on her back, being blown backward by its hot breath.

Snow scanned the camp.

"Apparently, they've been arguing most of the day. A few people have already left."

Emma ran a hand through her hair.

"What do you think they should do?"

Snow shook her head.

"I think they should have left hours ago. There are no fighters here. They're families, farmers. They can't defend themselves."

Emma snorted.

"I bet that went over well when you told them."

Snow's grimace spoke volumes. She cast a backward glance at the group.

"What can we do?" Emma asked.

Snow turned and began walking back towards them, speaking over her shoulder.

"Try to get..."

_Boom._

Snow froze. Emma, right behind her, kept walking and bumped into her.

"Hey!"

_Boom._

She noticed the rigid position of her mother's back.

"What's wrong?" she asked uncertainly. And then she heard it.

_Felt_ it...

_Boom._

Snow slowly turned and faced Emma, her face pale and grim.

"Ogres," she breathed.

Emma blinked a few times, the word floating in the air between them before penetrating her mind.

"You've got to be..."

A scream split the air, followed by a crash. Snow reached forward and grabbed Emma's hand. She yanked Emma forward.

"Run!"

Emma didn't need to be told twice. She gripped her mother's hand as they sprinted across the camp toward the trees.

Suddenly, it was there, just as enormous and ugly as Emma remembered it being the first time around. It sniffed the air and roared when it heard more screams. Emma and Snow slowed as two young women dashed past them, one of them banging into Emma's shoulder.

"Shit!" Emma spat, letting go of Snow's hand to grab her arm. She lurched a few steps before stopping. She looked away from the ogre momentarily to bend over slightly, sucking in air to ease the pain. She felt, rather than saw, the creature move away.

Snow, who had jogged ahead, turned and saw Emma clutching her arm a good ten metres away.

And, then she couldn't see Emma at all.

Standing between them was a giant, grey, leathery-skinned leg.

A second ogre.

She backed slowly away and around, trying to spot Emma while keeping an eye on the giant beast. The ogre was sniffing the air, listening to the sounds of terror coming from all around. Snow tightened her grip on her bow and reached behind for an arrow.

And then the ogre roared and charged forward. Snow jumped back, watching it go and then her head snapped back to where Emma had been standing.

There was no one there.

Her eyes wildly scanned the immediate area. She couldn't call out right away, should the ogre hear her and come back. She ran to the place she had last seen Emma, her eyes continuing to rove back and forth.

"Emma," she whispered to herself, her face crumbling to anguish. Not again. Was there never a moment when they could just be safe? Just together? There was nothing but searching. Always searching, scrambling, making plans that were ultimately doomed to failure. And never a moment to hold her child just for the sake of holding her, without blood and poison and goodbyes...

"Help us! Help us!"

Snow was shaken from her thoughts by the stricken voice. A young man held a child, no more than three. His eyes were wild as he stared at the ogres and Snow ran to him and grabbed his arm.

"Are you alone?" she asked urgently, still casting backward eyes toward Emma's last known whereabouts.

"My mother...my mother..." the teenager stammered, clutching the child in his arms. They watched as, suddenly, one of the ogres kicked its way through a campfire, sending fiery debris flying. Several lit branches landed on the roof of a hut. It was as if oil had been poured into a tinderbox and a match thrown in. In seconds, a fire had engulfed the roof.

People ran everywhere and screams permeated throughout the camp, the roaring of the ogres still heard within the mayhem.

Snow turned the young man around and led him away from the immediate danger. She took him to the side of a hut and sat him on a water barrel.

"Stay here," she said firmly, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her. "If an ogre comes over, stay quiet and out of sight. They can't catch you if they can't hear you." She waited for him to nod, before turning back to the bedlam.

Her missing daughter was just one of many problems right now.

* * *

Emma peered out from behind the tree she had practically dived behind, gauging the danger beyond her hiding place. The moment she had seen the giant leg of the ogre standing between her and her mother, she had eased backward to the safety of the trees, hoping Snow would follow. The ogre had turned toward her at one point and she'd hugged the tree in front of her, waiting with baited breath to see if it would come any closer.

By the time she'd looked back around, Snow was gone and the ogres were on the other side of the camp.

Emma ran fast and low as smoke and screams surrounded her. She tried to squint into the stinging air, looking for Snow's telltale pink sweater. It was virtually impossible to see anything in the chaos.

"Snow!" Emma shouted, looking around wildly in every direction. All she could see were waves of frantic, desperate people. She began fighting against the crowd. "Snow! Snow White! Snow White!" She turned in endless circles, making her neck hurt with the constant back and forth movement.

"Look out!" she heard someone scream behind her. Emma ducked at the last moment and a large, wooden crate of some sort exploded a short distance from where she crouched. It disintegrated, sending shards of wood everywhere. Emma cried out as her cheek was sliced open and she pressed hard against the skin, feeling warm, sticky blood already oozing out. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to feel faint.

She stood up again and, through the haze of smoke, spotted the one thing that suddenly made everything better. She looked hard, lest it turn out to be nothing more than a mirage.

"Snow!"

She ran across the camp, her eyes glued to the woman in the pink sweater. She didn't even see the screaming man charging toward her.

They collided.

Emma thudded to the ground, the wind knocked clean out of her. She curled up instinctively, her mouth wide open to catch any breath that she could. Her shoulder injury roared back to life and she grasped it tightly, letting her head fall to the dirty ground.

That wasn't all that was roaring.

She looked up to see a human cannonball flying through the air and her lost breath came back in a hurry. The ogre was weaving back and forth, sensing for another target to fling.

"Emma!"

She felt hands on her back, trying to turn her. Her eyes closed momentarily at the recognition of the voice. She turned and sat up. She saw her mother's eyes widen at her blood-streaked face.

"I'm ok," she said to Snow. "I'm ok." She felt anything but.

Snow helped Emma to her feet and steadied her, before looking around at the madness.

"We've got to get rid of at least one of them," she panted, gesturing to the giant beasts wreaking havoc. "I could try and shoot one, but they're moving around too much."

Emma, wincing, cast her eyes around. There were too many targets for the ogres to focus on. They needed one of them to stand still for long enough...

"We need bait," she said. Snow turned to her. Her gaze turned suspicious.

"Oh no you..."

Emma put her hand up quickly.

"You're the expert with an arrow. I couldn't hit the side of a bus with one. What I _can_ do is attract the attention of one. I'll lure it over and when it gets close enough, you take it down." She saw the look of absolute refusal on Snow's face, her mouth opening to protest. "If you have a better idea, now would be the perfect time." She paused for a second, before setting her face determinedly. "Right. Get your bow and arrow ready. I've seen you do it before. There's no way you'll miss."

Snow, knowing Emma was right, yet hating it at the same time, prepared her bow and arrow. Later, she might reflect on the absolute trust Emma had just given her. Simply handed it over, like she would the keys to her yellow Beetle. Now, there wasn't time for such thoughts. With her heart in her mouth she watched her stubborn, exhausted, heroic, bloodied daughter grab a large rock from the ground, grimacing as her shoulder twinged.

Emma got a firm grip on the rock in the crook of her elbow and faced the ogre. She swung around once, twice, three times...

And let the rock fly through the air, discus-style.

It hit the ogre on the knee and the creature howled its anger, jerking its head in Emma's direction.

"Hey!" Emma shouted, waving her arms for no particular reason. "Over here, you ugly, oversized lump!"

The ogre snarled and faced Emma head-on. She breathed heavily, not so much from exertion as from sheer terror. She backed up a step at a time as it crossed the distance between them with frightening speed...

She didn't even hear the whistle of the arrow as it flew over her head and struck the creature dead in the eye.

Its mouth opened, this time in a silent cry of surprise, and it dropped quickly, lying still barely metres from Emma. She stood stock-still for a moment, waiting for it to suddenly open its eyes and swat her into next week. When it lay there, its thick tongue protruding from its mouth, she let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Nice shot," she commented shakily, as Snow appeared beside her. "That's the second time you've done that."

Snow looked around for a moment, taking in the change of situation. She grabbed Emma's hand and all but dragged her around behind a makeshift tent. Then she grabbed another arrow and began attacking her sweater.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked, as she watched Snow cut off a piece of her top, all the while craning her neck to see the other ogre.

With a final pull, Snow detached the last of the threads and turned to Emma, holding up the makeshift cloth.

"Hold still." She reached forward and gently began wiping the blood off Emma's face.

Emma, momentarily startled, jerked back. Then, understanding what Snow was doing, she relaxed, allowing her mother to clean the cut on her cheek.

"You gonna spit on it too?" she asked wryly, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly when Snow smirked.

"I might."

Emma closed her eyes as she felt her mother's firm, comforting hands tend to her wound. Being taken care of seemed to be getting easier.

"What are we going to do?" she asked softly, opening her eyes when Snow finished.

Snow shoved the bloodied scrap of material into her pocket and turned back to their immediate problem.

"I've got an idea, but I'm going to need a horse," she replied, stepping around Emma. She turned her head and held out her hand. "C'mon."

They ran across the camp to where their horse was tied up. The animal was terrified, but Emma watched as Snow spoke softly to it, rubbing its flank soothingly.

"What's the plan?" she asked.

Snow untied the horse, looking back at the surviving, furious ogre tearing the camp apart.

"Provide a bigger target and then take it down." She looked steadily at Emma. "Stay here. You've had your turn as bait. This one's mine."

Emma, eyes wide, gulped and watched Snow mount the horse, holding an arrow and her trusty bow in one hand, the reins in the other.

"You're going to hit it, right?" she asked anxiously.

Snow looked down at her. It was situations like this which made it hard to see any trace of Mary Margaret. There was only Snow White. There was only her mother. Was one present in all three?

"I'm going to hit it," Snow affirmed and pulled the reins to turn the horse into the fray. She cantered towards the ogre, letting go of the reins to ready her bow. She aimed...

Snow released the arrow and Emma watched as it completed its arc and...

Embedded itself in the ogre's arm.

Emma wasn't sure she had seen right. She was incredulous. Her mother didn't miss. She'd hit smaller targets than that.

Unless...unless that had been her plan all along...

The ogre snarled and whipped its head around, its keen ears locking on to the horse's hooves.

A threat.

Snow, with another arrow already notched into her bow, steadied herself and aimed again, this time at the creature's eye.

It was at that moment an explosion rocked the camp. Small enough not to kill anyone, but big enough...

Snow slipped momentarily, the arrow released from the bow.

Striking the ogre's cheek.

Snow again steadied herself on the horse. She knew it wouldn't allow itself to be struck a third time. She looked beyond it to the trees.

And made a decision.

Emma watched, horrified, as Snow kicked the horse into a gallop and charged toward the trees. The ogre's keen ears picked up the sound of the horse's hooves again and, sensing an escapee, turned and followed. It ripped the stray arrows from its arm and cheek and flung them aside.

"No!" Emma shouted and took off after them. Ignoring the screams and calls for help, the fire and debris, she barrelled down the path into the trees. The ogre's heavy steps felt like earthquakes, making the ground groan and shake. Yet, she kept her eyes on Snow, who was growing smaller as the beast drew closer to her. But, even as Emma pushed herself faster and faster, the speed of the horse and the size of the ogre were too much.

Helpless, she finally slowed to a stop and, chest heaving, watched her mother disappear further and further into the forest, the angry ogre roaring after her.

"Snow!" she screamed desperately, futilely. "Snow!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Plumes of steaming air escaped from her mouth.

Emma stopped for only a brief moment, before breaking into a run again. But, the time between running and stopping was becoming ever shorter. The path ahead of her bent in the undergrowth, blocking her view of what lay beyond it. She imagined she could still hear the echo of the horse's hooves beating against the ground, though in reality they had long disappeared. The ogre's groans and roars had also dwindled, though she occasionally heard its anger coming from far away.

She ran until she could run no more. Until her breath was ragged and felt like fire in her lungs and she felt nauseous. She slowed and eventually stopped, dropping to her knees on the hard ground. She bent forward, her hands on the ground and her head lowered. Long minutes passed before she felt well enough to lift it again.

By now, the forest was silent. The birds and animals, confused and terrified by the intrusions, had gone into hiding.

And Emma realised just how alone she was.

She looked around. The path twisted away ahead of her. The trees surrounded her. The silence engulfed her. What the hell did she do now? Keep following the path deeper into the forest? What if Snow had managed to outrun the ogre and _she_ ended up running into it? In her current state, she wouldn't stand a chance. What if Snow was hurt? Or...? Emma's mind wouldn't take her further than that. Perhaps she'd been able to get another arrow shot off and had killed it.

Whatever had happened, Emma needed help. And the lonely, twisting path in front of her would offer nothing.

She had to go back to the camp. That's what Snow would do. Snow would find her way back to where she had last seen Emma.

She'd come back to Emma.

She had to.

Emma turned slowly, reluctantly, still torn about the right choice. She clutched her arm as she walked along, trying not to feel as if the forest had grown to twice its size or the path she was walking had doubled its length.

Snow would come back to the camp. In the meantime Emma would see if she could help anyone who had survived. Maybe help herself too. Everything hurt.

And Emma had the uneasy feeling that something inside was more damaged than her outward appearance.

* * *

She reached the camp eventually. After falling twice from dizziness and throwing up in the bushes.

She came to a halt at the entrance to the camp.

And stared at the full extent of the carnage.

The camp had been laid waste. Bodies lay everywhere, some sprawled as if they had been thrown, others curled up as if they had simply dropped where they had been standing. Huts and other rudimentary buildings had been flattened in a rage. A fire still burned, a few of the men using buckets to try and extinguish it. A woman was tending to the injured, though Emma imagined there wasn't much she could do with a pail of water and some rags. Where were some of Mulan's herbs when they needed them? Or even the warrior herself?

"Emma?" a small voice came from her left. She turned.

"Thomas." She knelt down in front of him, studying him closely and tried not to think of how much he reminded her of Henry. "Are you hurt?"

The boy shook his head and uttered one word that stabbed Emma's insides.

"Mother."

Emma wordlessly stood and followed him to the side of a half-wrecked hut. Her breath caught as she spied Greta on her back on the debris-strewn ground, her limbs oddly twisted, blood covering her in patches and spatters. She dropped to her knees beside the woman and looked wordlessly up at Katrina and Sarah, who were huddled together, faces ghostly white. Colleen was clinging to her mother's skirt, sobbing.

"Make...them...safe," came a breathy whisper.

Emma looked down to see Greta's hooded eyes gazing up at her.

"I..." Emma began, but Greta suddenly looked fierce.

"Promise me! They...must..." Her eyes closed. Her head lolled slightly to one side.

Sarah let out a cry of distress. Emma's eyes widened and, in a panic, she quickly reached down and felt for a pulse. She exhaled when she felt the faint, steady beat. She smiled reassuringly at the group standing around her, but knew it was fleeting. Knew what everyone else knew. Greta was going to die. It was just a matter of how long she held on before succumbing.

Katrina took two steps forward and looked at her with red, anguished eyes. Emma had yet to even hear her speak.

"What do you know of this land?" she asked uncertainly. She gestured beyond Emma to the wider camp. "Some of the others were talking about another camp half a days' journey from here."

Emma felt helpless. The one person who might know, Mulan, was miles away. Right now, she could do absolutely nothing for these people. She couldn't heal Greta's mortal injuries and she could offer no advice on any possible destination. She may have broken the curse in Storybrooke, but here, she was no saviour of any kind. All she'd done really was get herself into trouble, over and over again. Yet, Katrina's gaze was steadfastly hopeful and she would grasp at any guidance. Seemed to expect it.

"No. I don't know this place at all." Emma felt the truth of that statement with every word. "But, I do know there's safety in numbers. Maybe you should think about going with them. When…" She was going to say 'when Greta dies,' but there was no way she could finish that sentence, not with the woman's sister and son right in front of her. "When it's safer," she finished lamely.

Katrina looked unsure, but stepped back and turned away with Sarah, the two whispering between themselves.

Emma placed a hand on the unconscious Greta's shoulder, squeezing gently, before standing up and walking away from the family, once again taking in the wreck of the camp. She pressed a hand to her aching head.

"Will you not stay with us?"

Emma closed her eyes briefly and turned around to face Thomas.

"I can't. I'm sorry. I have to find Snow and my two friends and right now, I have no idea where any of them are." She smiled weakly.

Thomas kicked at the dirt, his eyes downcast.

"My mother's going to die, isn't she?" he asked quietly.

Emma's heart sank. Thomas, like Henry, had a way of cutting through all the crap and getting to the heart of a matter in a way that made it virtually impossible to hold back the brutal truth.

She sighed and nodded slightly, moving to sit heavily on a barrel, one of the few not destroyed by the ogres.

"Yeah," she said finally. "She is. I'm sorry. I wish I could say something that would make it better, but the truth is, there's nothing." She winced internally at the harsh reality this boy found himself in.

Thomas finally looked up at her, his face pale. He suddenly looked much younger than his thirteen years.

"Where's your family?" he asked. "Why aren't you with them?"

Emma raised her eyebrows.

"That's a story that's way too long and complicated," she replied with a wry smile. "Though, right now, I'd settle for finding my mom. You met her. Snow."

His brow furrowed quizzically as his mind ran through the possibilities.

"Wait. The pretty lady with the short hair?" When Emma nodded, he shook his head slowly. "But, she's way too young to have a kid as old as you." His face went bright red. "I mean…"

Emma laughed a little.

"Like I said. _Way_ too complicated."

He gestured to the forest.

"She went in there, didn't she? With the ogre." When Emma nodded again, he looked sympathetic. "She's pretty brave."

Emma barked a laugh.

"Tell me about it."

"How are you going to find her?" he pressed.

Emma shook her head slowly, raising her shoulders slightly and twisting her mouth into a thin line.

"I wish I knew."

Thomas kicked at a stone on the ground.

"Whenever I go out to play with my friends, my mother always comes looking for me. I think she thinks I'm gonna fall down somewhere and get hurt. Mostly, it's embarrassing." He looked stricken. "Now I wish…" He tried to blink it back, but a tear slid from his eye and ran down to his jaw. He brushed it away, before peeking up at Emma, hoping she hadn't noticed. "Did your mother ever embarrass you?"

Emma felt strangely empty and cold at the innocent question. What had Snow done? Given her up to protect her. Taken her in when she'd needed a place to stay. Jumped into a swirling portal to nowhere, just to be with her. Brought her back from the brink of death. Loved her more than anyone had ever loved anyone.

Embarrassed her?

Emma wished she was so lucky to have something so ordinary.

"No," she replied, her voice unusually hoarse. "She's never done that."

"Thomas, come here!" He turned to see his aunt beckoning. He looked back at Emma.

"You'll come and say goodbye?"

Emma nodded and watched him trudge over to his family. Did she know what he was going through? Maybe. Both desperately trying to be grown up around their mothers. Both out of their depth. Both desperate for their mothers.

But, there was one big difference.

There would be no tomorrow for Thomas and his mother. His goodbye, when it came, would be the last one he would ever say. He would live the rest of his life knowing she was never coming back. And would have nothing but bitter and raw memories of better times. Of things that used to be. Of a love that used to exist.

_You come from two people who don't know how to give up._

Emma clenched her jaw, remembering Snow's words.

For once in her life, comparing herself to someone wasn't ending in bitter resentment and anger. Even if the person she was comparing was a thirteen year old boy whose heart was about to break. This time she was the lucky one. She'd had two chances with her mother already. The third had to be the one she would grab with both hands.

A curse hadn't kept them apart.

Deadly poison hadn't prevented them being together.

This time she would get it right.

* * *

Hours passed. There were no more ogres. No more fires. No more fighting.

But, there were more deaths. Those whose injuries were too severe, the victims too far gone. Emma joined the efforts, keeping watch over Greta, helping repair shelters. All the while considering and dismissing plan after plan of her own future. She tried not to think about how every hour, every minute that ticked by spelled bad news for herself. For Snow...

Excited murmurs drew her attention to the treeline. Her head snapped up quickly, eyes searching for Snow. It was a group of about ten who had clearly left before the attack, judging from the way they were greeted with relief and affectionate ferocity in equal measure.

And then, she did a double take.

She stood slowly, disbelief and a sense of strange relief flooding her chest.

"Mulan? Aurora?" A gape of astonishment. She quickened her pace as she walked toward them. Aurora spotted her first and grabbed Mulan's arm to draw her attention. They waited for Emma to stand in front of them.

Emma almost hugged Aurora. Almost. She settled instead for a look of fervent gratefulness.

"What are…? How…?" Emma stuttered, looking from one to the other. She collected herself. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes wanted her to weep.

Mulan gestured with her sword to the east.

"We met a group of survivors heading for the mountains. They told us they had heard reports of ogres attacking the camps. We shared a meal together and as we were parting, we heard the roar of ogres across the valley. It was coming from this direction and…well, we considered continuing on to the meeting place, but we wanted to be sure that you and…" She stopped and looked around carefully. "Where's Snow?"

Emma stared at her silently. Mulan understood and exchanged a glance with Aurora.

"Where?" she asked quietly.

Emma pointed to the path leading into the forest on the other side of the camp.

"She took the horse and bolted. We killed one of the ogres, but the other one was right behind her. I tried to follow them, but…" She cut herself off, feeling the fear rise within her once more.

"Well, then, that is the path we shall take," Mulan said firmly. Emma smiled thankfully. Painfully. And couldn't deny the utter relief she felt at having the warrior and her companion with her again.

"Emma!"

She whirled around and spotted the owner of the cry of distress. Taking off at a run, she charged toward the hut and came to a stop in front of the group gathered there. Thomas looked up, tears streaking down his face.

"What's happening to her?" he begged.

Emma watched as Greta struggled to take in lungfuls of air, her chest jerking up and down, her mouth gaping wide. Sarah tried to reach down and pull Thomas back, but he threw off her arm, holding onto his mother's tightly. Greta's painful movements finally stilled and, at last, her face became peaceful. Thomas looked down at her, reaching to her neck as he had seen Emma do to feel for a heartbeat. The group waited in silence.

A silence that stretched thinner and thinner.

"I can't feel anything," he whispered. He pulled his hand back and stared at it, as if it were the reason his mother's heart had stopped beating.

And Sarah's voice erupted in a wail. Emma stared down at Greta's face. It felt as if she had taken every ounce of peace with her. She grabbed what looked like a child's sweater and knelt beside her, draping it over her face. She looked up and met Thomas' eyes. His face was contorted in grief. Too much grief for an innocent face. Emma let her eyes rove over the camp. He was just one of many. Daughters and sons with no mother. Husbands with no wives. She suddenly felt the coolness of the air and shivered, feeling how far from anyone she really was.

She stood up and moved over to the huddled women. Thomas had joined them and she squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"Goodbye," he said and the word gripped her heart tenderly.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her own face twisted in sympathy. They barely heard her above their own grief-stricken sobs.

One of the men hovering nearby caught her eye and came over. She nodded at him in recognition. They had been working together during the afternoon.

"We have mutual friends," he said in a low voice. "We would be happy to escort them to the next camp. We are going there ourselves."

Emma murmured her thanks and made her way slowly over to Mulan and Aurora. The three watched the scene in silence for a moment.

"I thought if I came back here, she would find me," Emma said softly. Mulan and Aurora stared in surprise at the honesty of her words, her tone. "But, I don't think she's coming. So, I'm going to find her." She meant that in so many ways.

Her companions nodded, as she knew they would.

"Then, let us not linger here any longer," Mulan replied. They gathered their things and headed toward the path that Emma had chased Snow and the ogre down.

They walked quietly. Carefully. The shadows followed them along the path, prematurely darkening the afternoon. It took some time to reach the place where Emma had turned back the first time. As they ventured further, they occasionally saw evidence of hoof prints or a small tree that had been uprooted in fury. But, this became more scarce with each step.

They stopped to rest. Mulan and Aurora gladly shared their provisions, but Emma wasn't hungry. She wandered further up the path, staying close to the edge. Listening. Wondering.

She looked down and her insides froze to ice.

It was caught on a small bush. A small scrap of material, softly flapping in the breeze. She reached down with trembling fingers to pick it up. It felt soft to her touch and she unhooked it from the twig it was caught on.

Pink and soft.

Mary Margaret's sweater. Snow's sweater.

Emma knelt down beside the bush, her mouth open in disbelief. She ran her thumb over the material, her mind rapidly emptying itself of rational thought. Her throat felt swollen, making it hard to swallow. Her chest was leaden, making it hard to breathe. She licked lips suddenly as dry as the dusty ground under her.

Her mind hadn't gone there before. Hadn't allowed her to. But, finding this…She was unable to keep the thoughts away.

Not this.

Not Snow.

She was badass. Strong. Fearless.

Invincible.

She couldn't be holding her mother's torn cardigan, used so gently to wipe the blood off her own face. She closed her eyes at the memory. It was like her baby blanket all over again. A token, a scrap of something meant to remind her that she'd been loved once. If she'd ever really known what love was. How many nights in her life had she lain in bed with that blanket clutched to her chest as if it were a real person, eyes wide and staring into the darkness. Of wondering why on earth she even existed if it was just to exist. And when the tears had fallen, she always promised herself that next time she wouldn't cry. Next time she'd toughen up. Because she didn't need anyone.

She didn't need anyone.

But, right then, Emma Swan felt the hot poker of an anguish prodding places in her heart she had sworn never to feel. And a need so desperate it threatened to swallow her alive.

* * *

Mulan, instead of expressing defeat, seemed refreshed by the discovery. They hurriedly repacked their supplies and continued on. There was purpose in their step at this sure sign Snow had made it that far.

The forest path reached a fork and they hopefully chose right. It was the direction Snow would take to reach their meeting place. This path seemed to open ahead to some sort of clearing...

Mulan suddenly reached out and wrenched Emma back behind the trees, clapping a hand over her mouth. Walking behind them, Aurora froze. Emma struggled for a moment, before setting eyes on the reason for Mulan's aggression.

Her eyes widened.

Her eyebrows raised so high, they almost reached to her hairline.

Ogre.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thanks for continuing to support this story. There are only 2 chapters and an epilogue left. I always seem to go on longer than I planned...**

**A/N2 If you read something you've read before, don't worry, it's supposed to be like that. I am bringing us back to 'real time.'**

**Chapter 4**

It seemed she had forgotten how to breathe.

Emma pressed her lips tightly shut behind Mulan's hand. The warrior held her arm so tightly, she was sure it would bruise.

They watched, hearts in mouths, beating so quickly they could have made the ground beneath them shake. Everyone was frozen, waiting to see if the ogre had heard them.

It sat with its back to them in the clearing.

Mulan slowly removed her hand from over Emma's mouth and pointed to a path through the bushes which would take them around the ogre.

Trying to pass by it on the path would be suicide.

Mulan, as usual, led the way, followed by Aurora, with Emma bringing up the rear. The second and third in line followed Mulan's feet carefully through the undergrowth and, gradually, in the agony of slowness, the group made its way forward and around the imminent threat. Every shiver of a leaf or whisper of the wind caused an instant halt to the procession. As they were almost in line with it, Mulan began studying the creature as they walked stealthily along. It sat on its knees, its hands half-resting across its legs. Something seemed strange. Surely, they weren't being that quiet. Surely their luck wasn't this good.

And then she saw.

Its head was tilted slightly forward as if it was staring at the ground and as she walked the final few steps, Mulan could see the thick line of congealed blood running down its face.

It was dead.

She turned to her companions and smiled, gesturing for them to look.

"It's ok," she said, pointing. "It's safe."

Emma and Aurora twisted their necks to see. Mulan watched the great relief that passed over their faces with the realisation.

"How is it even still upright?" Aurora asked as they walked through the long grass into the clearing. She hovered back near the trees as Mulan and Emma stepped forward, not entirely brave enough to come too close. Her eyes took in the clearing before focusing on something near the ogre's legs. "What is _that_?"

Mulan turned to look and winced. Whatever it was, whatever it had been, there wasn't much left. Tufts of hair, looking like they had been ripped out, lay in little patches amongst the blood and...other things.

"It's horse hair," Mulan deduced. She glanced at Emma. "It must be Snow's horse."

There was a thundering silence.

And Emma wondered if all the air had suddenly been sucked into a vacuum. She didn't dare look at the poor creature which had been torn apart and left in pieces on the ground. She didn't want to see the kind of damage an ogre could do. Didn't want to think about the person who had been riding that horse at some point. Didn't want to come face to face with the knowledge that her mother's escape plan had ended here, in this clearing peppered with sunshine. Couldn't make her brain ask the question.

What else might be lying around here, having been at the ogre's mercy?

"Look," Aurora pointed belatedly. "It died from an arrow wound."

Sure enough, the ogre's eye had been punctured. Emma walked, staggered, around to stand face to face with the beast. It loomed above her and she felt her skin prickle, despite knowing it was dead. She stared up at its grey, sagging face, her eyes fixated on the arrow, which seemed tiny compared to the size of the creature it had brought down.

Snow's arrow.

She didn't know what she felt at that. At knowing Snow had been alive even as the ogre had died.

"We should search," Mulan said quietly. "There's a lot of blood around. I cannot tell if it all belongs to what lies here."

Emma let her eyes slowly drift in the spaces between defined objects. The air seemed to sting her eyes. They passed over trees and grass. They searched past tree stumps and low lying bushes. Her legs took her around and around. And all the while, two voices struggled to be heard in her mind.

The first begged to find Snow. But, finding Snow meant she hadn't come out to meet them. And there would be only one reason she wouldn't, couldn't do that. Which was what the second voice shouted.

That Snow would be far from here.

"Emma."

She turned to Aurora standing by a tree, gazing at something intently. Something on the tree. Emma forced her legs to carry her there, even as her eyes wanted to squeeze shut to avoid whatever was there to see.

Something dropped inside her when she saw it.

A clearly defined, bloody handprint.

She squeezed her hands into fists. And wished she wasn't a worst-case-scenario kind of person. Wished her mind didn't go straight to the moment they would find her mother's body.

Her mother's body.

Emma felt nauseous. Her mind blanked. She realised immediately that the sharp intake of breath that could suddenly be heard was hers. She stepped around the tree and studied the ground, scouring, searching. Everything felt like slow motion. She heard Mulan and Aurora doing the same behind her. Following her lead. For it would only be by her say-so that any of them would stop.

But,in the end, it was Aurora who stopped her. Placed a hand gently on her arm and looked at her with eyes so gentle with understanding in the darkening day.

Though it felt like the day had been dark for hours.

Mulan's determination now lay in getting to the meeting place. Her voice and gaze never wavered as she stated that's where Snow would be.

And Emma clutched at that straw as if her life depended on it.

She trailed behind the two of them as they moved to camp for the night. She looked back as they left the clearing behind. Her mother had been so near. She had been right here. She felt the hope inside her shrink to half its former size. But it didn't die completely.

She could only hope.

She could only hope.

* * *

_She stood in front of the dead ogre, studying it, considering it. She wished she could reach into its memory and pull out an image of where her mother had gone. She wished it would revive, just for a moment, and point with its gnarled finger in a certain direction she could follow. She stared up at the arrow protruding from its eye. She felt caught by a sudden urge to climb up and grab that arrow. The arrow her mother had touched..._

_It took a moment to realise that the ogre's eyes had opened. Her mouth widened in a soundless scream and she leapt backwards as it seemed to laugh at her cowardly noise. It lifted its head and looked over at the trees. She followed its gaze with terror in her own eyes, suddenly watering from... tears? Or fear? And then the ogre's eyes closed again and its entire body seemed to cave in on itself, falling forward, causing her to jump out of the way just in time._

_She stumbled to her feet and took lurching, swaying steps towards the place it had looked. She could see the bloody handprint already. And as she moved closer, she saw..._

_She froze._

_No._

_No._

_Her legs moved forward independent of her thoughts and she approached the body lying motionless behind the tree. Her brain screamed at her that none of it was real. That it was simply a brutal, merciless trick, sent by someone to wreak mental torture on her mind._

_Still, she walked forward until she was standing..._

_Before her mother._

_She looked so peaceful. Asleep. Not injured. Her face, her body was unmarked. She was asleep. Only asleep. Emma knelt slowly on wavering legs and looked upon Snow's face. Her trembling hands reached out and touched the cool, pale skin. She felt its softness under her feather-light touch and then leant back, waiting for a response._

_It didn't come._

_She was asleep._

_Emma thought of True Love's Kiss. It would break a sleeping curse. She had brought Henry back with it. She leant forward and pressed her lips to her mother's forehead over and over and waited for the wave of release she had felt before._

_It didn't come._

_She wasn't asleep._

_"Snow," she whispered. She waited for the moment when Snow would open her eyes and smile. That smile of kindness, of love. That beautiful smile._

_It didn't come._

_She grabbed her shoulders and shook them, gently at first, and then harder._

_"Snow. Snow! Snow!" she cried, increasingly frantic. "Open your eyes! Please wake up! Open...open..." She alternately shook her mother and shouted at her til she had neither energy nor breath left. _

_And then she was left gaping, unable to conceive the truth of it._

_The emptiness was unlike anything she had ever known._

_And then she gathered her mother in her arms, clutching her to her chest, as the hole in her heart was torn wide open._

_"Not now," she moaned in agony, rocking them both back and forth, back and forth, as if to shed the reality of who was lying in her arms. "Not yet. Please don't go." Her grief expelled itself from her body in shuddering sobs, wracking her body. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Come back. Please come back." She tightened her arms around the limp body beneath her, trying to transfer the life in her own body to her mother. Her lips twisted and her eyes squeezed shut as she felt no response._

_Not a breath._

_Not a heartbeat..._

Emma opened her eyes suddenly and found herself curled in the foetal position next to the fire. Her heart was lead inside her chest, as if someone had just sat on it and attempted to crush her to death. She lifted her head from where it was curled into her shoulder and attempted to breathe through the tightness.

It hurt.

In a place she had been pretending all her life had never existed.

She ached.

Her face seemed to want to collapse into despair.

_It was just a dream_, she thought angrily as she sat up. _Snow is on her way to the meeting place right now. She will be waiting for us_. She looked over the fire to see if Mulan or Aurora were awake. They were not.

Why did a dream feel like reality? Why did it feel like prophecy?

Emma stood, closing her eyes against the cool night air. She took another gulp of air, before opening her eyes and picking her way through the grass, over the bushes and away from the camp. She rubbed a hand absently against her chest, trying to ease the pain sitting there like a rock just under her skin. She made her way over to a tree and sat down, curling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

Emma sat in silence, staring at the stars high above her. She listened, conditioning her ears with every passing moment to recognise the sounds of the forest.

The crickets chirping.

The gentle rustle of the trees.

Howls and grunts of animals she didn't really care to identify, so long as they stayed at a safe distance.

Emma stared and she listened and she thought.

She thought about how she was a fool.

She was one of those people one would shake their heads sympathetically over, yet at the same time, raise their eyes to the heavens at her actions. They would tell her words that, deep down, she had recited to herself many times over. But, when it came to living those words, she just couldn't. She couldn't.

_Seize the day._

_You don't know what you've got til it's gone._

_Live for today, for tomorrow never comes._

The words they might say were quickly becoming her nightmare. Especially sitting here in the forest, alone, while the rest of the world was asleep.

She glanced over at Mulan and Aurora, who were both sleeping peacefully on the other side of the fire. She didn't quite know what she would be doing if not for them. Floundering, most likely. It reminded her of just how much she didn't know about the enchanted forest. Of how grateful she was for chimera and fire-making and tracking, skills in which she was sadly deficient. Of how utterly alone she would be.

At that thought, Emma's eyes slid to _that_ spot.

The spot where Snow would be lying. The spot her mother chose to sleep every night. Beside her. For it was an unwritten agreement between the group. Mulan and Aurora slept on one side and Snow and Emma slept on the other.

Except now.

Now, the spot was empty and the whereabouts of its inhabitant unknown.

Emma rubbed her shoulder, frowning at the dull ache deep inside it. Though, she figured that was better than the sharp pain of a brand new injury. She supposed it would take a long time to fully heal, despite her limited knowledge of arrow wounds. It had barely been a week since she had been dying in her mother's arms, hardly able to tell where she was or what she was doing. Or saying for that matter. A week of taking one step forward and then two steps back. Blurting out something of her feelings, followed by hours of withdrawal.

And now she was a fool in the worst possible way.

She was a fool because she had thrown a perfectly good gift away.

The poison.

She had never had such a perfect chance. The chance to explain. To tell. To reveal. The poison had provided her with that one moment, that one situation when she could have laid it all out. Thrown caution to the wind and opened herself completely. To have been the daughter she could have been if not for the curse. If not for her own stupidity. Her cowardice.

For her courage had failed at those critical moments. When she had stayed silent, unable to answer a gentle question from a mother who only sought to know her better. When she had had the opportunity to share her deepest feelings and hopes and fears with the one person in all the world who would listen and love her just the same. But, she never opened her mouth to do it.

And now?

Now it might be all too late.

For Snow was gone. Somewhere. Nowhere. Vanished into the mist.

And the empty spot beside Emma was all that remained. That, and a tattered, blood-stained piece of her pink cardigan. Leaving Emma with the crushing weight of regret. And all the unsaid words she wanted to give her mother. And the desperate feeling inside of needing Snow to be right there.

Which might possibly be the most terrible thing of all.

It was more than an ache in her chest now. Something was there, just below the surface, wanting to come out. Wanting to tear itself from her in violence and anguish.

Emma stood and stumbled further from the camp, dirt and leaves and branches crunching under her boots.

Why did that dream hurt her so much?

What was inside of her that needed to come out?

She stopped and knelt in the dirt and fisted great handfuls of her long hair. She leaned forward until her face was inches from the ground. The position was painful considering her recent dices with death, but she felt nothing on the outside that could hurt. No, her agony was all on the inside.

And, like the Emma of her dream, she cried soundlessly in the darkness, save for the tiny gasps that invaded the silence. Hot tears ran down her face and settled in the dirt.

She was frightened.

Not because she was in a land so far from home.

Not because she was relying on the kindness of strangers.

Not at the thought that, last week, she had almost left her mother.

But, at the thought her mother might just have left her.

* * *

**A few hours earlier...**

Snow gripped the reins of her horse harder. Clenched her thighs around the saddle tighter. She didn't dare look back, imagining she could already feel the ogre's hot, putrid breath on her neck. Its snarls and growls seemed terrifyingly loud. In fact, it was all she could hear right now.

But, the further away she rode, the further the grotesque creature was running from Emma. And that was all she cared about. That was the only thing that mattered. Her daughter was safe. She thought she had briefly heard Emma screaming after her, but that had disappeared very quickly some time ago. Now, it was just her.

And the roaring, angry beast.

She ducked down to avoid a low-hanging branch and sneaked a look behind her. To her shock, the ogre was indeed quite close and she saw it grab the branch she had just avoided and snap it off the tree as if it were a twig. She gulped in another breath and spurred the horse faster, but she could feel it tiring beneath her.

Sure enough, within another mile, she felt the ogre's presence closer than before. Her own body was aching from the tension and her breath came in short, hard gasps.

And then she felt it.

The wind at her back as the ogre tried to swipe her. Knock her off the horse. Break her bones.

She felt it again and a low groan of terror was ripped from her throat.

When it tried and missed a third time, it bellowed in fury. She was ready this time to twist her body in any way necessary to stop it swatting her like a fly.

But, she wasn't ready for it to reach down and slap at the horse's legs, effectively tripping it up. And Snow felt herself flying as she was thrown clear. The impact of her body with the ground was cushioned somewhat by a soft patch of grass, but after rolling too many times to count, she still lay there with her eyes shut, stunned and hurting. She wasn't sure she could move. Then...

She twitched her feet ever so slightly. And her arms. And her neck. Then harder. Nothing broken. Yet. Her eyes flew open and she instinctively sat up, her eyes flitting this way and that way, to locate her enemy.

She found it immediately to her left and faced it head on.

And just as quickly looked away from the sight before her, trying not to lose the contents of her stomach. She wouldn't be riding anymore, judging by the frantic screaming of the horse.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, she got onto her hands and knees, crawling away as silently as she could. She internally chanted, forbidding herself from looking around. If it couldn't hear her, it couldn't hunt her...

The horse's screams were cut off, but Snow felt her ears still ringing with the horror. Now, she had to turn around. The ogre knelt on the ground, its hands covered in blood. Her stomach churned anxiously. The ogre's head turned this way and that, as if it were looking for something. Or listening.

It knew the horse had a rider.

It was looking for the rider. Sensing for its presence.

Looking for _her._

She rose silently to her feet, holding her hand out to support herself on a tree. Her foot hit something hard and she looked down, relief flooding through her. Her bow. She slowly bent down and picked it up and her relief turned quickly to dread.

It was snapped in half, the two pieces hanging from a thin shred of wood, barely holding together.

After staring at it for long moments, as if she could unbreak it with her sheer will, she placed it back on the ground and began hunting carefully for her arrows. In another place and time, she would have looked a sight, tiptoeing around, whole body bobbing with the effort not to make a sound. She cast furtive glances toward the ogre, who still knelt on the ground, body tensed, trying to locate her. She was surprised it couldn't hear her breathing. It sounded loud in her own ears.

She eventually spotted an arrow and sidled toward it, now holding her breath completely.

Just to be safe.

She kept her eyes on the arrow as she inched closer and closer.

It was her fatal mistake.

She knew she was going to trip the moment she felt the root with her foot. Her momentum was carrying her forward and when her foot became caught, her ankle seemed to roll her forward and she raised her other foot to keep her balance. The noise of that foot connecting with the ground might as well have been the boom of battle drums...

The ogre's head whipped around faster than she would have thought possible and she instantly sprinted and dove at the arrow as it howled hoarsely, its face twisted, incensed. It stood and stomped toward her as she grabbed the arrow, closing her fingers around the thin wood, and somersaulted away, heading for the trees.

It had her in its sights, so to speak, and there was no possible way she could outrun it.

But, she had to try.

She dashed between the trees, zigzagging to throw the deranged creature off. It shoved aside bushes and smaller trees as if they were gnats, gaining metres on her with every few steps. Snow suddenly felt a sprinkle of wetness on her neck. It was so close, she could feel its saliva.

And then she was on the ground, face first. She hardly knew what she was doing or thinking, acting purely on instinct. She rolled over and its face loomed over her, its hand in the air, poised to grab her. It leaned closer, growling low in its throat. When it came, the creature's grip felt tight, but not as bone-crushing as she had imagined. It leered at her, ducking its head closer and closer to her face, taking in her scent to replace the sight it didn't have. She imagined it was grinning, savouring the moment. Or just showing her its teeth, dripping with saliva. With hunger.

And now, strangely, she found she could think. And she could only think of one thing. Walking toward her daughter the day they met. The feel of Emma in her arms, stiff and uncomfortable, but there. And that moment when she had cupped Emma's face and Emma had dropped her eyes, unable to look. Unable to cope with the love Snow had known was shining out at her.

Emma loved her. Snow knew that, even when she couldn't reach across the chasm that lay between them.

She was jolted as the ogre lifted her, holding her as if she weighed no more than a feather. She gripped the arrow tightly in her hand, weighing options. There were few.

Kill or be killed. Plain and simple.

Emma loved her. And she couldn't leave this life without giving Emma a chance to show it in her own, awkward, wonderful way.

And Snow knew it would be wonderful.

There was nothing but a bare two feet of space between her and the ogre's face.

It was enough.

With a yell, Snow threw herself forward, winding her arm around in front of her and stabbed the arrow she was holding into the ogre's eye.

It screamed.

It twisted in agony.

It slumped forward.

And Snow slipped through its fingers to the forest floor, covered in its blood.

She knelt there for a moment, shaking her head, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. She exhaled a giant sigh and stood on shaky legs. She looked dazedly around the clearing for a moment, before jerking herself back to reality.

Go back or keep going? Return to the camp or head for the meeting place? Snow weighed her options. By the time she got back to the camp, hours would have passed. Perhaps Emma was still there. Perhaps she had gone to find Aurora and Mulan. Snow tried to imagine what Emma would do. She knew her daughter wouldn't like staying in one place too long. She needed to _do_ things, not sit around waiting for something. Snow nodded firmly to herself, convincing herself she was right.

She moved forward, putting out a blood-soaked hand to steady herself against a tree. Collected herself for a moment.

Then, she turned onto the path and headed toward her destination.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Thank you all for being awesome with your time and generous with your praise. I dedicate the following chapter to you ;)**

**A/N 2 And to the person who asked if I hang around the OUAT set-no. I guess I just made 3 incredibly lucky guesses :)**

**Chapter 5**

"Emma. Emma, wake up."

She was aware of the voice instantly, though it took her a moment to open her eyes. They felt glued shut and swollen somewhat, as if she'd been crying. Which she had. Silently and convulsively. And her head ached with a strange pressure in her forehead. It was a feeling she wasn't well acquainted with. Hangovers were worse, to be sure, but right now she'd prefer a hangover rather than...this. She peeled her eyelids back to focus on Mulan.

"It's time we left," the warrior spoke quietly, nodding in the direction they were about to head. "The moon will be bright enough to guide us and it will be dawn in a couple of hours. Are you alright to walk?"

Emma moved in clumsy, slow actions, eventually standing on her feet.

"I'm fine," she said tiredly. "I can walk." She didn't much care that everything Mulan could see right now was the complete opposite of fine. Emma realised that Mulan and Aurora had seen her in much worse shape than this. Was there really that much point in hiding? They knew her mother was missing. They knew she was completely reliant on their knowledge of this land. She remembered how good it had felt, how much of a relief it had been when Snow had taken over things. It wasn't so bad now either.

But, there was something. A small gesture...

"Thank you." She looked Mulan in the eye as she spoke the sentiment. She turned her gaze on Aurora. "Both of you." She shook her head, lowering her eyes to the ground. "I wouldn't be anywhere without you. You've saved my ass more than once since we met and you had no real reason to. You're probably the truest friends I've ever had and we're not even really friends." She huffed a small laugh and kept her eyes trained on the ground. Voicing her feelings was one thing. But, the eyes of a person contained so much and she wasn't ready to share what her eyes would say.

Aurora stepped forward.

"Well, what is a friend, anyway?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "A person you trust. A person who would risk themselves for you."

"Someone who fights your fight," Mulan added with quiet calm.

Aurora smiled gently as Emma lifted her gaze. So hesitant. So ready to expect the worst.

"All of which are true for us," she continued. "Sometimes the greatest of friendships are born in difficult circumstances. And ours didn't get off to an ideal start." She watched the blonde heave a deep breath as if released from a burden. "We _are_ your friends, Emma." She was shocked to see Emma's glassy eyes.

Emma scratched a spot near her eye nervously.

"This isn't a conversation to be having when I'm still half asleep," she mumbled. "Let's just go." Even as she walked away from the pair, she knew she would have to stop doing that if..._when_ they found Snow. There could be no more changing the subject. No more laughing off feelings that ran too deep. No more averted gazes to hide pain. Sorrow. Confusion.

She'd done that before.

It would be what everyone expected. What her mother expected, though Emma knew Snow longed for more. But, she was so tired of that. Holding it all in was so exhausting. So toxic. It was why she had never had anything much that resembled a life. Now she had...friends...who had almost died for her. A mother who had risked everything. A son who desperately believed in her. And a father who...well, she didn't even know yet. But, somehow she just knew that it couldn't be anything other than good. Wonderful. Amazing.

The moment she had been wondering about. When she would finally stop hiding from herself and everyone around her. The twenty-eight year old habit. Maybe it was now. It hadn't been like a light switching on. Or a tap being turned on. And it didn't feel like a slap in the face either.

It was more like a quiet..._something_. Deep inside.

Like the poison that had almost killed her, it would all have to come out.

* * *

Finally.

They reached their original meeting place, a decision which felt like it had been made long ago, a little while before dawn. The oddly shaped clump of trees crowded closely together, as if for support. The three travellers immediately began searching the area, calling for the missing. As the long minutes wore on and Snow didn't reveal herself, Mulan and Aurora began casting anxious glances both at each other and at Emma. Her expression poorly concealed, Emma almost looked like a lost child, wandering innocently, faithfully, fully expecting the lost to appear and seeming puzzled when they didn't.

But, eventually, even Emma had to admit that Snow wasn't here.

And there was no Plan B.

They had no reinforcement.

Snow would either be here...or she wouldn't.

And she wasn't.

Emma stared down the hill, hearing the faint burbling of the river below. Without a word, she made her way through the trees toward it. Mulan and Aurora chose not to follow. There were times when being alone was the only option.

"What do we do?" Aurora asked Mulan.

The warrior shrugged.

"We wait. Until we can't wait any longer," she replied impassively.

Aurora found no comfort in that.

Emma's footsteps made little sound as she stepped on leaves damp with the dew of early morning. The air was cold and cleared her head, though the strain behind her eyes remained. She rubbed a hand over her eyes and felt the wetness. It hadn't spilled over, but it was there. She quickly brushed her hands over her jeans and flung her hair out of her face, moving onward.

In the shade of the trees, the river slid quietly along, so narrow in parts that a person would be able to pick their way across a kind of rocky obstacle course without having to submerge or even get wet. Emma knelt down and held herself up by placing her hands on the ground in front of her, closing her eyes in exhaustion. After a few deep breaths, she cupped her hands, lowering them into the water. She drank her fill and then let the cool water run over her face, releasing the strain a little. Then, as she had been doing for awhile now, she allowed the river to still from the ripples she had made. To look at her reflection. To see the remnants of the poison glistening silver in her eyes by the light of the moon. She knelt there, leaning forward for long minutes, staring at herself.

But, it was gone.

There was no silver. No poison.

Just her.

"_Emma."_

She looked harder, leant closer to make sure. It came and went whenever it pleased, so she couldn't be completely positive yet.

"_Emma."_

Mostly her eyes just looked dark, under and around. She hadn't slept much lately. Going on twenty-nine years now.

"_Emma."_

She had been half-hearing that voice for awhile now and she looked up, squinting in the grey light. It was almost incongruous to see the figure standing there on the other side.

And then, it was like a slap in the face. Like a sharp jolt, waking-up from a dream. Some kind of strange, unidentifiable sound emerged from her throat and she automatically stood up, swaying slightly, though with no idea what she would do once upright.

The figure moved. It was her mother.

Moving.

Toward her.

Emma felt herself shivering, but she wasn't cold. She was terrified. Terrified that it wouldn't be real. Terrified that it wasn't Snow taking a step onto the slippery, wet rock to begin the short path over the river.

Her chest was so leaden, she was surprised she was still standing under the weight. But, then, she'd always been strong. She remembered back a lifetime ago, making a wish over a cupcake. A better year. Something. Anything better than the way things had always been. And her wish had been granted. Someone had heard her whispered wish to the void. Someone had heard her. Someone had been listening.

_We will always find each other._

_You come from two people who don't know how to give up._

_Find us._

Was this what she'd been made for all along? Not to seek, but to actually find? Oh, she'd looked. She'd looked hard, despite telling herself never to stoop so low. Never to be that desperate and hopeful. But, to find?

And not once, not twice, but three times. She hadn't even realised there had been so many chances until it seemed they would run out. Main Street, Storybrooke, standing there scared to death looking into her mother's eyes for the first time. Waking up from a toxic poison, knowing her mother had been to hell and back, preparing to say goodbye forever.

And now.

Standing on the other side of the river, watching Snow carefully pick her way across the rocks in an effort not to get wet. At a distance she looked ok, though Emma thought she spotted a limp, a favouring of one leg. She drew in a shaky breath.

This time.

This time.

She felt sick. Physically sick. Her heart beat so fast, she wondered if something was wrong. She tried to think of some words. Something to say. Something to offer that would make up for everything she'd never said before. Where had all the words gone? The ones she had been planning to purge like the poison?

Snow was close enough to see clearly now and Emma's eyes widened. Bruises, startlingly black and blue stood out against her mother's fair features. Emma remembered her legs and began taking tentative steps forward along the riverbank, her eyes never leaving the figure who had almost reached her side.

She reached the point where her legs wouldn't hold anymore and she sank to her knees, waiting for her mother to take the last few steps. She lifted her head and looked up, staring wonderingly at the face she seemed to know so well. Her mother was close enough to touch.

She wanted to believe so badly. Wanted to believe in the person above her. Wanted to believe in herself.

Emma reached out, her arms encircling her mother's waist, her head pressed against her stomach. She stared sightlessly out at the river, her only real awareness being that of the figure she was holding.

She was holding her.

She was real.

"Don't say anything," she said hoarsely. "Not a word."

Snow managed a watery smile to herself as she felt Emma's arms slide around her waist. It was...odd, to say the least, watching Emma watch her as she crossed the river. As if _she _were the child, the delicate one, the one in need of protection. And then to see her daughter fall to her knees, well, she'd never seen Emma like that.

She wondered what had been going through her daughter's mind these past hours.

She obeyed Emma's petition not to say anything. This was something special. She didn't know what was about to happen, but she knew something was coming. She brought her hands around to run them through the blonde locks, feeling the arms around her waist tighten. She ran her hands down to the shoulders, trying to detect if they were shaking. Emma didn't appear to be crying.

They stayed that way for countless minutes until Snow couldn't stand it anymore. She pulled away slightly and felt Emma hesitantly loosen her grip. Snow slid down to her knees until they were finally face to face. And she suddenly saw the child in her. The lost, lonely child, who had wandered the earth without a home. Without a family.

"You look terrible," Emma whispered shakily, her fists gripping Snow's pink sweater, which looked more than a little the worse for wear.

Snow's face creased into a smile.

"So do you," she said gently, brushing the hair back from Emma's face.

"I wish...I wish you hadn't got on that horse," Emma continued, staring at a spot somewhere below Snow's mouth. "I was...worried." _I almost puked from it. I almost went crazy._

"There was no way I was letting that ogre anywhere near you," Snow said firmly, holding onto Emma's shoulders and squeezing. "I will never regret protecting you and I'll never stop _trying_ to protect you."

Emma paused for a moment, staring at her, then let go of Snow's sweater and reached into her pocket, pulling out the crumpled, blood-stained piece of cloth. She held it up and Snow frowned, before recognising it.

"This can't be it," Emma choked. She squeezed the material tightly in her fist.

Snow leaned her head forward, confused.

"Can't be what?" she whispered, half-afraid to talk, but wanting to keep Emma talking.

Emma swallowed hard. Her throat was closing fast, the words fighting to get themselves out.

"This can't be all you leave me with. Last time, it was a blanket. You can't just leave me a piece of clothing. A piece of clothing is not a person. It's not a memory." Her lower lip trembled. "I don't...I don't want you to go. I'm twenty-eight, but I'm just...just a kid inside." She continued clutching the cloth. This was not the way she had imagined this happening. She didn't know if anything she was saying made any sense. She could hear her breathing hitch, her voice becoming croaky. She didn't think she'd be able to stop the deluge when it came.

Snow moved closer until there was barely an inch between them, placing her hands either side of Emma's head. She leaned forward to press her lips against Emma's forehead, feeling her heart just about burst when Emma put her hands over her own and pressed hard. _Now_, she could feel her daughter shaking.

"Emma, my love," she whispered, kissing her forehead again. "Emma..."

And that voice, saying her name with such tenderness, those lips pressed to her head, the loving hands holding her near, shattered the wall between them.

"When I was fourteen, my best friend asked me what I would say if I ever met my real parents and I said I'd tell them to go to hell." She barely took a breath as the words practically threw themselves out of her mouth. The tears leaked where they pleased as she raised her head and no one could stop them. "But, I didn't tell her what I was thinking, really thinking, inside because I couldn't bear the thought of being exactly like every other abandoned baby with a secret dream that their parents would come and rescue them. I didn't tell her that I was secretly thinking that I wouldn't tell them to go to hell, that I would actually beg them to take me home with them." The words were like a river, now, churning and hurling themselves toward a waterfall of tumbling emotions kept in check for a lifetime. "Because I thought if I knew what it was like for one second, just one second, to be loved by someone, then it would feel like it was worth being here." She stopped, almost abruptly, and dragged her palm across her mouth and nose, removing the wetness gathering there in a most undainty way. She felt like she couldn't get enough oxygen.

She didn't want to be sobbing.

But, she was.

She pressed her hands to her face, wanting to hide but having nowhere to go.

She hadn't felt so exposed since...well...ever.

"I was angry at you. And then I wasn't, but I wished that I was because being angry was easier than...than...loving you." She could barely register the emotions swirling in Snow's eyes. "Being far from you was safer. You couldn't hurt me." Emma shook her head helplessly. "But, then you were gone. And then, I was on the other side of it, wondering if I could forgive myself if I blew my only chance." She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "This doesn't even make any sense..."

Snow, her hands now having moved to Emma's shoulders, gave them a gentle shake.

"I understand you perfectly," she said, watching as Emma pulled her hands away from her face and looked at her disbelievingly. "It's ok not to be ok. Being scared tells me one thing. You want me to be your mother. You don't want me to let you down, the way you've been let down for twenty-eight years." She tilted Emma's chin so their eyes met. "I know it's going to take a while to completely trust me, but believe me when I say there is no way..." she said the words slowly, deliberately, "_no _way I am letting you go now. Ogres, curses, poisoned arrows be damned. I love you Emma. And the only thing better than meeting you the day you were born is having you here with me now. We have survived _everything_ that magic and the world can throw at us. Nothing will keep me from getting to wherever you are."

Emma reacted without thinking, her arms reaching out the way they had been her whole life.

And she was there.

Completely lucid. Completely sober. Completely open.

And holding onto the only person who could ever really have made it happen.

And feeling like a child who knew that, locked tight in their mother's arms, there was no way a cruel, unfeeling world could ever touch them.

Snow closed her eyes and tightened her embrace. She couldn't have stopped the tears even if she'd wanted to.

"You don't know," she whispered into Emma's ear. "You don't know how sorry I am. None of us could have stopped this or foreseen it. But, you were truly the innocent in this. I..."

"Don't," Emma said, clutching her mother closer. "It's done. It's done and it hurts like a bitch, but I don't want to waste any more time being the way I was. I want something else. And you promised."

Snow frowned, wondering. She loosened her grip and pulled back to look at Emma.

"I don't...what promise?"

Emma bit her lip as she tried to control the overwhelming emotions raging through her.

"You said if I held on...you'd be..." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "You said you'd be everything I never had before."

Snow opened her mouth, shaking her head and stared at Emma. When had she said that? When... Recognition dawned in her eyes and she closed them momentarily.

"You heard that? You remember that?" When Emma nodded, Snow laughed incredulously. "I thought you were about to die. I never actually imagined you'd hear me." She reached forward and held Emma's face in her hands, using her thumbs to brush away the tears, feeling so unspeakably delighted that Emma seemed perfectly happy to let her. "But, there's nothing I would like more than to keep that promise."

Emma nodded her head, biting her lip.

"Great," she said in a strangled voice. "Because I have a really long list." She reached forward to embrace Snow again.

Had she known it would be this hard...well...

She would have done it long ago.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Here we are, once again, at the end of a story. As always, thanks for reading and enjoying this-your thoughts on the story and style were extremely positive and encouraging, which I think made me try even harder. Happy reading and stay tuned for a possible third instalment...**

**Epilogue**

It was the sleep of the dead.

Or the utterly exhausted.

Or the formerly cursed.

The sun rose high in the sky, counting the hours til night, and the day grew warm and fragrant. Mulan, despite her eagerness to move on, conceded the need for everyone to regroup and refresh themselves after recent events. They decided to stay in the shelter of their camp until the next day.

It was as it had been before. Mulan and Aurora on one side of the remnants of the fire and Snow and Emma on the other. This time, however, there was considerably less distance between mother and daughter. In fact, Emma sat with her back against a tree, while Snow lay sleeping barely two feet away. Emma had one hand out, holding Snow's shoulder in a gentle grip. Her mother had paused long enough to greet Mulan and Aurora and down a hot drink, before sinking beside the fire and falling asleep almost instantly. There was plenty of time to hear her story. The story of the bruises and the limp and the dried blood and how on earth she had killed an ogre without her bow. Plenty of time, now that she was found.

Emma rubbed her brow wearily. Despite her overwhelming fatigue, sleep appeared to be impossible. She found it difficult to focus on anything but the sleeping form of her mother. Emma couldn't remember if she'd actually taken her eyes off her for more than a few seconds since their reunion by the river. They'd walked back up the hill toward the camp without saying a word. Yet, the air between them felt changed. Warm. Intimate.

How strange, now, to be living a moment she'd dreamed of practically all her life. They'd met in Storybrooke. But now..._now_ she actually felt like somebody's kid. Somebody's...somebody.

The world was drastically different. And everything in her past suddenly seemed so far away. But, not forgotten.

Never forgotten.

And it was in that moment she thought of her friend Adele, long since gone from her life, as most others had. And she thought of that day.

_"What if they showed up at your door tomorrow? What would you say to them?"_

_"I'd tell them to go to hell."_

She'd never meant those words. They had been the rebellion of a hurt and angry child, a child who didn't understand at all how someone who was supposed to love her could dismiss her before they'd even tried to.

But, now she knew. The only thing that had kept them from her had been the curse. And they'd had more faith in her when she had been but a baby than anyone had had since that fateful day.

Emma gazed down at Snow. Her mother had had faith in her from the day they'd met, all those months ago, when they had just been Emma and Mary Margaret. They'd always been drawn together, in a strange way, as if somewhere beyond their own minds they'd known. They'd always known. Emma inhaled deeply as she pondered this new idea. That hearts could actually call to each other above and beyond all reason. She rubbed the shoulder under her hand gently.

The shoulder of her friend.

Her protector.

Her mother.

And she smiled.

* * *

Twenty-eight years of herself couldn't be undone overnight, of course. She was still afraid, though she couldn't pinpoint any one thing. Being seen, really seen, by her mother. Talking about herself. Reacting to a woman who looked barely old enough to be given the role of mother to a grown woman.

Her uncertainty enveloped itself around her in waves. It was a constant tussle between those clear, contented moments when the world was bright and hopeful, and the moments when she was reminded of how hard it had been. And how hard it still was in many respects.

Emma and Snow stood next to a tree in an open area, overlooking the valley in silence. They'd had their 'council meeting,' Mulan mapping out their path toward Cora and their new plan for defeating her and getting things back to the way they should be. After everything, though, it would be hard not to wonder if they'd ever actually stop running into trouble enough to find her.

But, Cora could wait just a bit longer, couldn't she?

"So..." Snow began, narrowing her eyes to study Emma carefully.

"Hmm?" Emma replied, looking out over the valley. After a moment, she turned to face her.

"Tell me about this list." She could practically see Emma's mind racing, trying to figure out what to say. "Hey, don't do that."

Emma frowned.

"Don't do what?"

Snow smiled slightly.

"Don't censor yourself with me. You can tell me whatever you want. You don't ever have to be afraid of how I'll react." Her smile widened as she again prompted. "Now, the list..."

Emma sighed and looked away. The silence stretched between them again. Snow watched Emma's profile and finally reached out and took her daughter's hand.

"I don't even know where to start," Emma said quietly, fixing her eyes on their joined hands. "You missed...everything." She raised her eyes slowly and suddenly Snow could see the exhaustion, the bewilderment. "And I know...now...that you would never have chosen that for me, for us. To be separated like that. But, we were. You didn't know me for twenty-eight years and I pretended I didn't want to know you. And now..." She brought her shoulders up slowly and twisted her mouth into a bitter smile. "I just hope it's not too..."

Snow jerked her arm and Emma jumped in surprise.

"If the next word out of your mouth is 'late,' I'm afraid I can't accept that." She tilted her head. "Because I know from experience that it's never too late. Emma, what do you think parents actually do?"

Emma frowned and chewed her lip thoughtfully, her mind whirring with the possibilities. The dreams she'd hidden in her heart for years.

"Care." She huffed a humourless laugh. It sounded so simple, but adding human frailty-and an evil queen-to the mix twisted it in unrecognisable ways.

Snow smiled sorrowfully at that, but squeezed Emma's hand.

"I think you know by now how I feel. But, I will say it whenever you need me to."

Emma gulped and nodded quickly.

"What else?" Snow prompted.

"Cook. Actual food."

This time, Snow's smile contained a hint of mischief.

"I don't think you cooked one night we lived together," she replied, chuckling.

Emma smiled uncomfortably.

"Remember."

Snow froze.

"What?" she whispered, before she could stop herself.

Emma's eyes widened at her mistake.

"No! I mean, not...not 'I'm under a curse so I can't remember'. I mean..." She stood up straight and pushed away from the tree, dropping Snow's hand. "The number of times I was left waiting outside school for someone to come and pick me up. I ended up walking home most of the time and then I got in trouble when someone did eventually show up two hours later, expecting me to still be there." Her voice rose. "I had birthdays forgotten, graduations nobody bothered to show up to...It seemed like everybody was able to just walk away from me without a second glance." Her expression saddened. "Henry's father...he walked away." She met her mother's gaze. "Neal."

Snow started at the recognition of the name Emma had been calling while in the throes of the poison. She walked slowly over to join Emma.

"He walked away and turned me in to the Police," Emma continued. "He was the only person I ever said I loved. Until Henry ate that apple turnover. Until I thought I was about to die."

Snow stood in front of her. Time to push a little harder.

"Why was it so important to you that I know you love me?" she asked.

Emma pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head. It was all getting too close. Too close to her heart, bound so tightly. The last defence.

"I can't say any more," she said in a strained voice.

Snow took her by the hands and pulled her reluctantly toward the shade of a tree. She sat, pulling Emma down beside her.

"Yes, you can," she said gently. "Why did you want me to know that?"

Emma clenched her jaw to stop it from trembling.

"I thought it would...make you happy," she said softly. "I didn't want you to always wonder. I hadn't said it enough. I hadn't said it at all." Despite her best efforts, she felt the small drop of wetness escape from the corner of her eye and slowly begin its slide. Squeezing her eyes shut, she spoke, hating the words as they came out, yet feeling the release. "Make it all go away."

Snow reached forward, turning Emma's face toward her.

"Hey?"

Emma opened her blood-shot eyes and looked stricken. Snow placed her arm around Emma's shoulder and guided her daughter toward her own. After a moment of hesitation, Emma leaned forward, stiff at first, resting her head, staring into space as her eyes let loose her pain in the form of hot, salty tears. Like she hadn't cried enough. She placed a hand tentatively on her mother's shoulder.

"That's what my parents were supposed to do. Make the world just go away when it was too much to take. Make me safe. Be someone I could count on."

Snow rubbed Emma's back slowly and rested her head against her daughter's. Emma suddenly began chuckling, her shoulders jerking a little.

"What?" asked Snow with a puzzled smile.

Emma continued laughing for a while longer, eventually allowing it to trail off with a deep sigh. When her mother squeezed her in reassurance, she spoke.

"My mother is Snow White. We lived in a town under an evil queen's curse. We fell through a portal into another world. I got shot with a poisoned arrow and you nearly became an ogre's next meal." Her smile faded as a realisation came to her.

Snow squeezed her again.

"Why do I feel like that's not all?"

Emma nodded.

"And I...I've never had it so good."

Snow leaned down and kissed her forehead, feeling as if invisible shackles had been severed. A long road ahead, to be sure, but she couldn't imagine anything stopping them now.

"My darling," she whispered, smiling as she looked off into the distance. "This is just the start."


End file.
